Doctor Who at The End Of Time
by Mountain King
Summary: A re-write of the Tenth Doctors last adventure. The Master's resurrection gives the Time Lords a way to free themselves from the Timelock, but at a terrible price.
1. Introduction and Disclaimer

Doctor Who  
At The End Of Time  
Rewritten

Introduction:-  
From the outset I never wanted to re-write successful shows. That's why I write crossovers, they can never happen in the shows cannon so they are the ultimate in "what ifs" and, in it's defence, I loved scenes from End Of Time. Tennent's final moment was heart wrenching. The final act, as a final goodbye for his Doctor, worked beautifully.

So why am I doing this? Why am I opening myself up to flames and rewriting one of the most important moments in Doctor Who history? Because it's one of the most important points, because I feel that as good as RTD is with characters and setting up these big moments he always lets us down with the climax. The fact is, in the end, the story just doesn't live up to it's hype. There's just so much padding in the End of Time, pointless space battles, cameos that aren't needed, plot points that have no relevance to anything. You could fit the actual plot in a thimble.

Another problem I have with his writing is his homage's, or out right stealing as I think of it, from other shows and films. Sure when he does try to come up with original ideas we get the Raxacoracalfalabatorians ( I just broke my spell check), but Doctor Who has more than forty five years of villains and monsters. If you can't invent one there's a bit of a back catalogue other than Daleks and Cybermen. You don't need to steal from Stargate (a "Gate Room" where they talk of "Ascending" to pure energy), Star Wars (the set for the high council of Time Lords is lifted from the senate in III and the gun turrets from the Tie Fighter attack in IV) and god only knows what else.

This brings us to the problem. End Of Time didn't feel epic. All the bits bolted onto the main plot to expand it, hide the fact but in the end it's one action that undoes everything and restores the status quo, again. For example did we need the Vinvoochi and their spaceship? It has no impact on the story what so ever and was added for the laser and missile bit, that made no sense to me. The only point of the Doctors Mother (yes that was who the mysterious Time lady was supposed to be) was to get Wilf to bring the gun. It wasn't needed, Wilf could have just been prudent and carried it anyway. For that matter neither was the gun, the Doctor could have thrown his shoe at it! Why did the Doctor need to jump out a space ship and fall through the glass roof? What use was that?

So with this re-write I'm carving some of the more pointless bits out and leaving other plot ideas more of a chance to breath. By others I mean the Time Lords, the Time War and a few other little things.

* * *

Disclaimer:-

The End of Time was written by Russell T. Davis for BBC Wales. I don't own anything here and it's written as an alternative ending the Tenth Doctor. All characters are owned by the BBC.

* * *

Teaser:-

Donna sighed as she put her bag down and hung her coat up. 'I'm back,' She shouted, looking at the clock. She was late, must have missed tea. 'I had coffee with Shaun.' She found her mother and Gramps in the kitchen, washing up after tea.

'Again? That's the third time this week' Gramps nudged Donna's mother with a smirk as he dried a plate.

She was still up to her elbows in washing up. 'There's some leftovers in the oven. Won't take more than a moment to heat them up.' she said.

Donna shook her head. 'Don't have time, meeting Nerys and the gang at the pub at quarter past. I had a butty in the canteen and I'll finish it off when I get back.'

Gramps tried to hide it but both he and her mother flinched. Donna knew why, she wasn't thick. She had lost three months, and about a year before that was spotty. Gone, completely and they knew what it was. To Donna it was like someone had reached into her head and pulled out.

That was just how Donna felt, she couldn't explain it any better. Since then she just hadn't felt like herself. She drank less for a start, back in the day she wouldn't have been back before one and fallen asleep on the sofa. Thanking god that she didn't have work that day. Now she was probably going to call it a night early. Every time she tried to be more like herself the less it felt.

Something had happened and she was going to find out what, even if it killed her. 'I'd better get ready.' Donna said and headed upstairs.

Quickly getting changed she sat at her dresser and caught a look at her reflection. The woman looking back didn't seem like her. If it was who she should be or who she was Donna couldn't tell. She looked the reflection in the eye, 'Who are you? What happened and who am I?' Donna hissed before sitting back.

The moment was gone and she wondered if she really was going mad. Putting it to one side she opened her jewellery box. Pulling out a necklace she couldn't help but look inside

There it was, her other problem. She knew it was connected but something else. While her missing months were important they didn't feel dangerous. This did. It was wrong. She couldn't even bring herself to touch it it was so wrong, but like a broken tooth she couldn't help thinking about it. It was a heavy silver ring. Expensive and ugly with an oversized pattern on it. It must have cost her a lot, even though it wasn't her taste. Nothing that wrong to her would be.

Looking at it the temptation just to reach out, to feel it's weight on her finger, grew. Snapping the lid down Donna pushed the whole box to the other side of the dresser and stood up.

Leaving her room Donna made sure her door was shut firm and locked.

* * *

Outside she waited, watching. How his gift had found itself here was a mystery. Then the red haired woman left. It would be easy to kill her, but dealing with what happened next would take a lot to arrange. This wasn't America, a sudden disappearance would be noticed almost immediately. It might have taken a while but eventually the police would get to the bottom of it.

Arranging a distraction or someone to take the blame would require effort. The use of contacts and influence they couldn't afford, not if they were to continue Saxon's great work. Raising humanity to conquer the stars would take power.

No, far easier would be to simply liberate it as planned. She turned to the other three followers with 'Miss Trefusis, Miss Williams go in through the back.' The two wardens pulled their masks down and left. They had prepared extensively, the old man and other woman wouldn't be able to recognise them.

'Miss Watkins, we will enter the front.' She told her compatriot 'and search downstairs.'

'Yes Governess.'

End Teaser


	2. Chapter One

Doctor Who  
at The End of Time  
Chapter One

Author's Note

I have to apologise for this one. I originally wanted a lot more of this done before Matt Smith took up the role but Life got in the way. Work and commitments just jumped on me and when I finally got my head out of all the niggling little things I was struck with Writers Block .

Fortunately I've over come it and been able to finish this chapter off.

* * *

Chapter One

The Governess burst into the kitchen, just behind the wardens. If this was typical of how people in places like this lived they should welcome Mr Saxon's great plan. She found it repugnant. Still, for some unfathomable reason, they were fighting back.

The old man was behind the kitchen table, reaching blindly behind himself for something to defend with while he kept the table between him and Miss Trefusis. A quick look down showed that the woman was out cold.

'Who are you? What do you want? Huh, you cowards. Take on a girl, but you won't face an old man?' he shouted angry. She had to admit he had fire and for a old man. He wasn't backing down even surrounded and almost helpless.

Not that it mattered, he wasn't important. She nodded to Miss Trefusis, Mr Saxon had granted the two of them the ability to hear his call. It was coming from above them.

Upstairs they found another dismal, cluttered room. The Call, a measured beat of four, was so loud in the bedroom it was almost deafening. It's march echoing, they would have to search.

The Governess was rifling through draws when Miss Trefusis found the small jewellery box on the dresser. Incredible, the red haired woman mustn't have known what she had. A gift so precious and she crowded it amongst cheap metals and tiny dull baubles.

'Take it.' She ordered and then looked around 'Take it all and anything else that you find. We must make this look like a robbery.'

Miss Trefusis nodded as the Governess left. The room next door looked like it was the old man's. Tidy and well kept. A quick look was all it took for her to realise just why he had so much fire. An old soldier was like an old tiger, back him into a corner and he'd spit and snarl even when toothless. The only thing inside of any value was a small telescope. There were a few pictures on the wall of the night sky and a couple of trinkets. Pushing over the telescope she couldn't bring herself to do anything more. Besides time was of the essence.

Moving on she looked in the next room. It was the master bedroom, if any room so small deserved such a grandiose name. A short search found another jewellery box and a pile of old coins. The Governess took them and left, meeting Miss Trefusis on the landing. 'We leave.' she ordered, forcing her voice into a masculine growl.

* * *

Donna waved her goodbyes to her friends and watched Nerris whisper something into Tina's ear. Her friend laughed and then looked a little guilty. Once upon a time Donna would have turned on them, but now she just headed home. As she walked down the street Donna thought about that. It wasn't that she didn't care, or that she was some how beneath contempt. It just didn't matter what she thought, Nerris's opinion simply just wasn't worth bothering about. Donna had just wanted to call it a night, if the others couldn't accept that so what.

It wasn't what she would have done in the past. Something had changed and it was killing her not knowing what.

Coming around the corner and heading up her street Donna blinked as she saw blue lights flashing. It took her a moment to realise that three police cars were parked outside her house. Breaking out into a run she pushed her way through the gathering crowd only to be stopped by a police officer. 'Donna!' her mother cried and they let her past.

'What happened?' Donna asked. Her mother was shaking and had a nasty bruise on the side of her head slowly going purple. The officer questioning her took one look at the way she was suddenly clinging to Donna and said; 'There was a break in, several thieves assaulted her and held Mr Mott at bay as they stole several valuables. You would be Donna Noble, Mrs Noble's daughter?'

Donna looked around and saw her grandfather being questioned by two other officers. 'Yes. Yes I am.'

'I'm sorry to ask you this, but can you confirm where you've been for the last couple of hours?'

'Yes, I... I was down the pub with my mates...' than she remembered the ring. 'My jewellery box! There, there... did they find it?'

'They took it.' Donna's mother said. 'Why?'

'Nothing, it's just all my stuff.' Donna lied. She couldn't tell them about the ring, she didn't have the words to describe it and there was something about the whole situation. They weren't rich, no one on the street was, so why did a gang of thieves target here

Then it hit her, it was all a deception. The only thing they were after was the ring. The rest was the lie. It was important, so important that they went to all that trouble to stage a fake robbery.

'I understand that you're shocked but you have to understand this doesn't make sense.' The police officer pointed out. 'Then again things like this rarely do. Forensics are useless as, according to both your mother and grandfather, they wore gloves and masks. If you could make a list of everything that was taken we'll see what we can find.'

'I'll try.' Donna promised absently and looked up at her house and then beyond into the night sky. Something was coming, she could feel it in the air and the stars themselves would tremble.

* * *

Lucy Saxon shivered in her cell and opened her pack of cards. There was little light and no table, but she still had the floor to play patience on. Americans called the game solitaire, kneeling on the cold floor she knew why.

Lucy didn't regret what she had done. Harry had destroyed the world. It was all innocent at first. He was a great man, popular from his first day in politics. When they first met at a rally she'd felt his presence. He was charming, wonderful and funny. There was something magnetic about him, like no one else she had ever met. He was so wonderful that when he told her the truth she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was real.

Then he showed Lucy the end of the universe. How it all ended, everything she and everyone else had ever done all came to nothing, but dust and chaos. The human race reduced to floating heads trapped in metal balls, praying and screaming for one more day. It was too much to take.

But Harry had a plan, he always had a plan. He would change it, change it all. At first that's what she thought he was doing, saving them from their nightmares at the end of everything. It was only after a year in his hell she finally saw the cost of that change and just how little Harry cared about people.

It was all about him, she wasn't even a trophy wife. Lucy was just a toy, a decoration for the monster's arm. Trapped in marriage at the centre of his own world of horrors. Then it was over and he was going to do it all again. She had to stop him.

Pulling the trigger was easy. She just had to look into his face, see what lay behind those eyes and squeeze. In some ways he might even have thanked her, in his own way. She'd set him free. Even from himself.

The price was her own freedom, but that didn't matter. She was alive, so was millions of people. They were safe and she had a pack of cards. A pack of cards that refused to come out right time after time.

She let a wry smile spring to her lips as it was locked up again. As she was picking up the cards the cell door opened. Two wardens waving batons were on the other side. "The governess wants to see you.' The shorter one grunted before stepping back. Stashing the deck under her pillow Lucy sighed and left.

The truth was she hardly ever left her cell, she didn't even know if there were any other prisoners here. It wouldn't surprise her if there wasn't. What did surprise her was that instead of going across the prison she was lead to a set of stairs that went down. Deeper and deeper she went underground, colder and colder. Lucy had nightmares of this, they must think it easier for them to kill her than keep hiding her.

She hoped it would be quick, they didn't have any reason to make it last or be painful. Lucy found herself getting calmer and calmer as they descended. It would almost be a realise. At last they found their way to the bottom, beneath even the cellar. It looked like a cave, dripping with water and shadows. A large, high backed, chair in green leather stood at the back of the cave, looking completely out of place.

Ten stern women were also down there, waiting for Lucy. One, with platinum blonde hair and dressed in a business trouser suit, stepped forward; 'Mrs Saxon I must admit to admiring you. Even though you had no reason to you remained silent. Protecting everyone's honour.'

'Are you going to kill me?' Lucy asked, trying not to tremble at the thought. All calm suddenly vanishing.

The other woman looked at her slyly. 'Why would we do that after going to all this trouble. No Mrs Saxon in fact we have something else planned, Miss Trefusis.' She gestured to a middle aged women who was the sternest of them all.

Miss Trefusis took a step forward and held her hand out. In the palm was a large silver ring, Lucy instantly recognised it. 'No! It can't... Where did you get that?'

The Warden smiled 'Mr Saxon was a great man. He knew that only fools are not prepared for defeat.' The two guards that escorted Lucy down grabbed her arms, holding her still. 'As such he left instructions for us, the Cult of Saxon, if he was to die.'

Lucy struggled but she wasn't strong enough. The woman on her right twisted her arm around, forcing Lucy to her knees. 'No, you're talking about bringing him back!' She realised to her horror. 'You can't. You just can't!' she screamed

'True, we cannot. You can.' The Warden pick up the ring. 'Mr Saxon prepared you and you alone. You have travelled in time, stood by his side. He knew no matter what happened to him you would survive.' Lucy watched helplessly as the Warden slipped the heavy ring on her finger.

It was hot, almost searing. The two women let her go as an electric shock racked her body She instantly tugged at the ring, but no matter how hard she pulled it was stuck fast, shocking her again and again. Faster and faster Curling into a ball around her hand she pulled as hard as she could.

'As it was written. The ring is only part of his great plan. He improved you. Primed your body for his great task.' The Warden gloated as Lucy felt her ribs crack, her breath shorten. Something was happening to her, deep inside. Lucy could feel organs shifting on their own. 'We will be his trusted lieutenants. We will be the Children of Saxon.'

'He... He isn't human' Lucy gasped from between clenched teeth as they began to change in her mouth. 'Saxon isn't even his name...'

'We know. For he is the Master!' the Warden said triumphantly as Lucy finally blacked out.

* * *

The Master awoke to pain. The familiar pain of rebirth and regeneration. The last thing he remembered was dear Lucy shooting him and dying in the Doctor's arms. Screaming his defiance in the teeth of death itself.

Lying with his back on cool damp ground he shouted until his new throat was raw. Forcing all that defiance out, announcing to the universe he had returned. Cooling air filled his lungs as his hearts began beating. Finding his feet the Master looked around and sneered, this was what he had been reduced to. A dank hole in the ground.

'Where am I?' he growled.

'The place of your rebirth Master, Beneath Bordfell Prison.' one of his puppets said, fawning over him. He had deliberately given his followers sycophantic personalities but it was sickening as to how little resistance they put up.

They parted, revealing a seat for him. It was almost regale, as if it belonged to a god. Siting on it The Master took a moment to think

Over the centuries he had come to relish the challenges presented to him, Right now that what he wanted more than ever. These pathetic fools surrounding him were nothing more than minions, a waste of matter and energy he could find a better use for, now that their task was done.

'Come here.' he beckoned to the toddies while toying with his ring and they obeyed. Kneeling before his throne like seat. He reached out and saying his hand on their heads gently. 'My children, will you accept my humble blessing?'

'Yes Master.' they intoned, bowing as the Master smirked.

'I'm afraid my thanks is but a hollow gesture.' This time he just burst out laughing. 'No, actually I'm not.' Whipping out a claw like hand he used the ring to absorb what he needed.

Whips of pale white energy flew out from the women, coalescing around the ring. Their silent screams frozen in place as their eyes glazed over. One measly human life wasn't enough for him, he needed more. More time and more life, stealing it from the mind washed fools was not only easy, but the most convenient.

As their desiccated husks fell and crumbled, all their life energy absorbed into him, the Master stood. It was impossible to know how long their energy would keep him going, maybe only a couple of hundred years.

The Master sat at back, drumming a four rhythm beat on the arm rest.

* * *

The High Lord-President of the Time Lords Looked out over the Citadel. Legions of Dalek Saucers littered the landscape. Rassilon closed his eyes and felt the cool wind on his face.

The Dalek attacks had left the great dome broken, although even now it was growing back it might not be in time for the next attack. If it came. Behind him the sound of marching Guardsmen came to a stop. Chancellor Flavia's honour guard,

'We we unable to stop him.' She admitted. 'The Doctor possesses the Moment and he still intends to use it.'

He turned and looked at her appraisingly. 'You still support him?'

''I agree that the war must end, but not like this. Not by sacrificing ourselves.'

Rassilon nodded his agreement, missing his beard. 'The Doctor has proven to be a man of strong passions and other than his failure at Arcadia a competent general. Unfortunately he does not have the temperament for this war.'

'Few do, that is why we called upon you, Lord Rassilon.' Flavia tilted her head.

Rassilon took a deep breath, it was good to be flesh again he reflected. He wasn't going to let some upstart like the Doctor take it away from him. 'Call the Inner Council to order immediately. There may yet be a way to save our people.'

'Yes, my Lord-President.'

End Chapter One


	3. Chapter Two

Doctor Who  
at The End of Time  
Chapter Two

Authors note:-

Alright, this is, again, a lot later that I originally wanted it to be. The reason is simple; I had no idea just how freaking bad The End Of Time truly was and re-writing it is a kin to major corrective brain surgery while half blind, drunk and arguing with a Rhino about where it's horn belongs.

Long story short what held me up this time was the Ood. Their inclusion in End Of Time was nothing more than fan service, but I still wanted to keep them in. I've already changed so much and it felt I needed some way to anchor my ramblings into the original script

Unfortunately every time I tried to re-write the Ood cave sequence I kept running into a brick wall. I like my scenes to make sense in context of the show. This doesn't, where did the Ood find the power to punch through time? If all the people of the universe are starting to dream of the Master (what the hell is that supposed to mean?) why are they the only ones to do anything about it? For that matter how, there's a vague reference to the fact that Time is damaged, but wouldn't the Doctor be in a better place to figure that out? For that matter wasn't it a rather large plot point earlier that the only reason he couldn't sense the Master was that he was hiding as a human? That or a huge network of satellites that camouflaged him.

So after a lot of trouble I'm throwing the Ood away and cutting to the thrust of the story.

* * *

The Doctor was glad that with all his peoples advances in genetic engineering they hadn't come up with a way to eliminate sleep. At least that was the nights he didn't have nightmares.

When he did the Doctor did his level best to put them behind him with the light of day and usually succeeded. Only this time it was different.

It was impossible to see into the future, at least with any accuracy. Still, on very rare occasions, very few time sensitives could have an insight. Somewhere between instinct and that feeling of dread when someone walks over their grave. Right now the Doctor felt like a thousand Racnoss were dancing on his final resting place.

Somewhere on the edge of unconsciousness he felt it, an awakening. Twitching in his sleep the Doctor felt timelines collapsing, possibilities folding in on themselves. Another Time Lord consciousness began to press itself upon the fabric of time.

Forcing himself awake the Doctor shuddered. Something was coming and who ever it was felt familiar. All too familiar. Throwing his suit jacket over his shoulders the Doctor found his feet, jumping from the battered couch he started flicking controls on the console.

It was him, no one else in existence felt quite like the Master. But how? Racking his brains he looked around the TARDIS for something, anything, to inspire him. Someway the Master's twisted imagination would conceive yet another way to slip from death's grasp.

The inside of a type 40 was covered with quantum shunts, vortex generators and Wormhole manipulators. All useless. Trans-warp nets, infinity drive modulators and hyper-spacial bridging. All terribly important for space travel but nothing to bring a man back from the dead.

He was dead, the Doctor had made sure of it. Burning the body just so this couldn't happen again, but there had to be something he missed. Throwing his eyes skyward he looked up at a mass of cables, tendrils and coppery corral. Nestled amongst it all was the Chameleon Arch.

'No.' he whispered to himself. 'That's not…' slowly an idea formed, 'He couldn't have, he wouldn't…' The Doctor hissed as the first threads of a plan came to him. It would have been simple, to use the Arch again, only that time copy instead of transfer. 'He'd need a vessel. He said to himself. 'Someone close, he wouldn't want them out of his sight…' Then in a flash it came to the Time Lord.

The dead, almost empty, look in Lucy Saxon's eyes. The way she pulled the trigger. The perfect target the Master had made of himself. It was all part of his plan. Somehow he had primed her, prepared her body with a time delayed effect from the Arch.

Then another piece fell into place, Lazarus and his DNA experiments in regeneration. The Master had access to that information, it would have been child's play to modify that with Time Lord knowledge. Especially if that knowledge was backed up by the TARDIS.

All it would take was a few key people with the right commands. One or two innocuous suggestions and the Master would live again.

Cursing himself as a fool the Doctor set controls for Earth, hoping to get there in time, before his arch-nemesis could put anything into motion.

* * *

Rassilon strode over the bridge and into the inner sanctum. Inside the high council sat in session. Nodding he took his place, sat at the head of the heavily decorated table. 'We we able to stop him?' The Lord Chamberlin asked.

'No, the Doctor escaped with The Moment.' Rassilon hissed, 'We have a decision to make. We must survive, escape the shadow realms and return to the waking world, but how?'

'We sealed the Time War for a reason,' Chancellor Flavia reminded him. 'If we are not careful we could bring all of reality crashing down.'

'The Dalek's are not worrying about that. Why should we?' The Chamberlin spat. After his failure with the Cruciform he had become more vocal in his opinions. Privately Rassilon was beginning to share them, the Daleks had won several major conflicts because they had smashed through many of the laws of time and space. Laws that the Time Lords had upheld.

'Perhaps we could attempt to contact the Guardians. They still have the power to end this.' Another Chancellor spoke up.

Rassilon tried to keep the sneer from his face. The Guardians were eternal forces personified and couldn't see beyond their own convoluted conflict. He and the Other had agreed on few things, but that the Guardians were arrogant, pretentious and ignorant of all but their own goals was one of them. 'They will not listen,' The Lord-President said scornfully. 'Even if they did they would spend eternity arguing, long after we were gone and the reason forgotten by even them.'

The High Council sat in silence, everyone searching for ideas and dismissing them just as quickly. Then the Chamberlin looked around. 'Accession,' he whispered with a smile. 'Those that came after us have already done so, we know how it is done. It should be a simple case of…'

'No.' Rassilon hissed. 'Those creatures were of space, we are time. We are tied to it with bonds even we don't fully understand. Accession is not a option for us.' Taking a deep breath Rassilon stood up and walked around the table 'Besides I will not accept that destiny. A formless thought, drifting on the solar winds. Unable to effect the material world, screaming my impotence at an unfeeling universe.' He let his disgust at the thought show. 'I refuse to be nothing but an echo.'

From the nods round the table he could see that he had made his point. Walking back to his seat he took the opportunity to give the Chamberlin a dark look. 'We need an option that will save our culture, without sacrificing everything we have worked for since the dawn of time.'

It was then that the doors opened and the Commander of the Guard stepped in, his plumed helm under one arm and other hand on his Staser. Stiff with formality the Commander took one look at the dignitaries and went to the Chamberlain's side.

He whispered something and the Chamberlain blanched.

* * *

Wilfred Mott looked down at his morning coffee. He was still shaken from what had happened earlier that week. Sylvia was jumping at the slightest thing and Donna, well Donna had been a concern for a while.

His Grand-daughter was trying to hide it but she wasn't the same. She might not be able to remember her time with the Doctor but it had changed her. She was more thoughtful even quiet at times. In the last couple of days it had gotten worse. She was worried about something, something Donna was trying to keep a secret.

He wasn't the only one to notice and he knew he had to bring it up sooner or later. 'Sylvia, you've seen it haven't you?'

She looked at him, eyes wide. 'You're talking about Donna?' He nodded. 'What's happening to her dad?'

'I don't know, she's behaving less like old Donna and more like…'

'Like she did with him.'

Wilfred bristled at the way she said it. 'The Doctor helped her! Showed her a better way, I was proud of her…'

'I've always been proud of her, she's my daughter.' Sylvia growled.

Wilfred stood up. He loved his daughter very much but she would never listen, least of all to him. 'She made a difference out there, did good. Did more than file paper and fetch drinks. I love her no matter what, but she can do so much more.' Sylvia suddenly reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him.

A moment later, sleepy eyed and dishevelled Donna came into the kitchen. She headed for the kettle, blinking owlishly. 'Morning!' Wilfred called to her brightly, but she didn't answer.

Sylvia stood up. 'Headache, again?'

Donna nodded, it looked more like she was suffering through a hangover, but she didn't drink that much anymore. Worse still the headaches were happening more and more often.

They'd tried aspirin once, but that had only made Donna sick. The only thing that seemed to help was tea, the stronger the better. Before no one in the house drank it, now Donna couldn't get enough.

Sharing a quick look the two of them watched as she sipped at the drink, 'Are you feeling better?' Sylvia asked carefully.

'No.' Donna admitted, a dangerous frown on her face. 'It's not enough.' Almost absently she put down the cup and walked across the kitchen, to Sylva's drinks cabinet. Before they could stop her she pulled out a half empty bottle of ginger ale.

'Donna, love, what's wrong?' Wilfred got to her first, but she had already twisted off the top.

'Carbon dioxide and ginger.' she muttered 'I need to stimulate the enzymes and continue the process.' Wilfred took a step back as she finished the bottle in two quick gulps. Her voice, blurred with sleep, still sounded different. It was more precise, almost upper class.

'Dad, what's going on?' Syliva asked as Donna made her way to the fridge.

'I… I don't know.' He admitted as his grand-daughter found his salami and took two massive bites from it.

Sylvia ripped it from her grasp and began shaking her daughter 'Donna… Donna, what's going on? Tell us, let us help you. Before it's too late.'

Blinking Donna looked around. 'Hey, what's happening?' She looked down. 'And what am I doing in my pyjamas?'

Sylvia looked at him, shocked, but Wilfred had an idea. 'You were sleep walking love. It's alright now though, you'll be fine.'

She wasn't paying him any attention, Donna was more interested in her mouth. 'What have I been eating?'she asked as she pulled a face. 'It,' she coughed. 'It tastes like burnt cardboard.' She coughed again.

Sylvia took her daughter by her arm, Wilfred took her other. 'You better sit down.' He suggested, but the coughing was getting stronger as Donna got weaker.

Biting back an oath Wilfred jumped back. A dirty black wisp escaped from the corner of her mouth with another bone rattling cough. 'Dad call an ambulance!' Sylvia screamed.

He dived for the phone as Donna slid to her knees, bringing her mother down with her. As he punched in the number something seemed to ripple up from deep within her, almost as if she was throwing up.

Throwing her head back Donna wasn't being sick, she was screaming soundlessly. Then, like a volcano boiling over a great black cloud exploded out of her mouth before keeling over.

On the other end of the phone a woman said, 'Nine, nine, nine. What service do you require?'

* * *

Joshua Naismith looked up from his morning newspaper, his butler stood there waiting patiently. 'Yes John?'

I'm sorry sir, but your de-facto at the wearhouse was quite insistent.' Joshua could tell the officious man disliked the scientist. Not that it mattered. 'I am to tell you there has been a sighting, the footage has been transferred to your computer.'

Folding the newspaper Joshua grinned.

End Chapter Two


	4. Chapter Three

Doctor Who  
at The End of Time  
Chapter Three

Authors note:-  
The reason I've taken so long with this chapter is two fold. First of all other things have gotten in my way, other stories, a new job and life in general.

The other thing I've said before; it's only when you start to pull the original apart do you realise just how much of it was total bullshit. I don't like swearing but when its necessary there's nothing like a good swear filled rant. RTD deserves a lot of credit, he proposed and made a new Doctor Who series both practical and possible. He also gathered a lot of good actors, writers, producers and crew together. The problem is he's about as competent a writer as Brannon Braga. Plot holes, logical fallacies, random out-of-character actions for no reason, idiot moves by the cast and situations that shouldn't have been in the first place.

Rewriting this thing is like pushing an elephant up hill. Just as soon as I think I've got good leverage the damn thing moves and I have to start all over again. Now I'm a fourth rate hack and admit it, but I'm still good enough to make this tripe better.

* * *

It was a prison, converted from an old castle. Large and imposing it stood there dominating the landscape. A memory of long forgotten wars, quietly reminding everyone of it's past keeping people out and it's present, keeping them in. Taking in a breath the Doctor winced. It was that all too familiar smell, with a hint of bitterness that was unmistakeable. It was him and he was close, all to close.

That meant there was a problem. There was no telling how far his influence had spread by now, or what plans he could put into motion at a moments notice. The idea of just marching inside and demanding answers didn't appeal to the Doctor. Usually he'd just make it up as he went along when dealing with one of The Master's more convoluted plans Here though the Master couldn't have had the time to put anything other than the most basic traps in place.

This was bad, at a pinch The Master was just as good as him, that meant that neither had the advantage, one way or the other.

Frowning the Doctor looked the building up and down, taking a guess at it's age and probable construction. Castles as old as this one would originally have had underground dungeons. Dungeons that the lord of the castle would have been careful to make sure he could escape. Rebellions and coupes were a way of life back then and private escape tunnels were an easy way out of your own prison if things made a turn for the worse.

The Master knew that just as he did and while it would have been blocked up and sealed when the place was converted into a prison it wouldn't be too hard to open it up. Especially if he already had free run of the place, with that hypnotic personality of his that wasn't going to be a problem.

Rather than waste an afternoon trying to find a secret exit that was probably built over more than a hundred years ago he Doctor decided to simply walk up to the front door and ask.

It worked better than expected. The guard at the door, with a tell tale glassy eyed stare, escorted him inside. There were at least a dozen more of the hypnotised guardsmen and women keeping the other prisoners in line. The Master might be a mad man but he wanted to keep a low profile and it was far easier to control the prison alone, rather than the both guards and inmates.

After a few turns down blind corridors his guard stopped at a heavy old door. 'This visitor asked to speak to the Master. He has been waiting for him.' The Doctor hid a wince. He didn't really expect to catch his rival unawares, but it might have been interesting.

His escort lead him down a flight of old and musty stairs and into a underground cavern. There, sat on what looked like a badly kept antique drawing room chair was the Master. Rather than looking at the Master the Doctor looked around. It wasn't hard to discover where his fellow Time Lord had gotten his chair from. The cavern had been used by the prison service to store whatever furniture the castle had acquired over the centuries. Part of the Doctor rebelled at the idea of storing antiques in a damp cellar, while the anarchist in him felt it fitted the Master's twisted mind perfectly. 'I like the decor.' He admitted.

'As do I Doctor. A tad draughty I admit, but then again I'm not staying that long.'

'Oh really?'

'Really.'

The Doctor looked at him for a long second. 'You actually think you're going to escape on my TARDIS?'

'Of course Doctor, how else? Now I can simply take it, or you could give it to me. I'd even be kind enough to give you a lift, somewhere not to far away of course. Just enough so you're not stranded here.'

'Where then, the ice temples of Venchair?' The Doctor supplied, thinking of the most inhospitable location within a hundred years.

The Master suddenly chuckled 'I had forgotten about that place, a nice idea. No actually I was thinking of throwing you into the time vortex but I'm flexible.'

'I bet you are.' the Doctor sighed. 'Look your mind tricks aren't going to work on me and I'm not going to just give you my TARDIS so what ace have you got up your sleeve? Or should I ask who?

The Master sat back. 'In honesty honesty Doctor, I haven't decided yet. Miss Jones's family, that Sarah Jane you're so fond of, Miss Noble, I might even look up you're our friend Jo Grant. The list is endless, you've touched so many people on this little planet it's hard to keep track.'

'I like to think it's because so many of them are extraordinary.' The Doctor's voice hardened. 'Like Lucy, the woman you murdered just to cheat death again.'

'Cheat death? Come now Doctor are we back to arguing that tired old point again?' The Master stood up. 'But you're right. Of course you almost always are. When I killed her, in my resurrection, I felt something. Something I can't remember feeling before.'

The Doctor took a step back. 'Could it have been guilt?' He wasn't accusing his old friend. Once upon a long time away the Master could have been called a good man. It might be possible for him to be so again.

'Perhaps a little bit.' he admitted. 'But that's what made it interesting. I've never enjoyed it Doctor, the killing. I've always felt it was inelegant solution, but as my problems became bigger my solutions became smaller. Case in point our most recent conflict. I lost control, as my horizon widened my vision narrowed. You saw that of course.'

The Doctor nodded, not knowing what to say.

'I killed billions, murdered them as simply as flicking a switch and achieved nothing with it. I got exactly what I put in. Now the effort I put into Lucy, that was something different. I felt her die, I savoured it. She taught me a valuable lesson, what use was all those death's compared to what her single sacrifice achieved.'

'You're resurrection.' The Doctor felt something lurch in his hearts. He had hoped that this new incarnation was sane, he was wrong. This version was worse, the insanity hidden behind a new layer of calm and ice.

'Exactly, I promise you Doctor every life I take will mean something. I will make it so. No more killing for pleasure, or because I can't see another option. I will make other options. So you see I won't need kill any of your friends, I will find another way.'

The Doctor didn't like the way he said that. 'Master, listen to me, like you said there are always options. You don't have to conquer, the universe is so big and full of wonder it is enough to witness it.'

'Doctor, please.'

'Just listen to me, I'm pleading with you. Just think, truly think. There is so much out there. You don't need to rule or conquer anyone, just live. We could do it together, travel existence as the last two Time Lords.'

'And what of the crimes? The injustice? The fate of the children you adore so much?'

'What are you talking about?'

The Master laughed. 'Haven't you ever wondered why I chose this way of life? Like you I rejected our fellow Time Lords. I saw the universe for what it was, chaotic and dark. We imposed our will on it once before and gave it structure, I will improve that structure Doctor. I will bend existence to my will and my will alone. There will be no more fear, crime or pain when I've finished. I plan to forge existence into a perfect layered jewel, facet after facet exquisitely crafted into one perfect whole. Without free will, yes, but look where we are because of it. All that pointless death and destruction, lesser races, barely more than pond scum, spreading their twisted ideas through creation. I will stop wars, stop it all.'

The Doctor felt twin icy hands of terror clutch his hearts. 'You can't be serious, enslaving the galaxy…'

'To bring peace.'

'That's not peace, it's destruction. you would annihilate anything that didn't fit in your perfect order? That's genocide at best, universal armageddon at worse! No man should have that power.'

'No man, but we are Time Lords Doctor, you know as well as I that the power is there. We need only reach out and take it.'

'The Time Lords existed to prevent that miss use. They knew that no Race should have that power.'

'They were impotent fools. Come now Doctor you know this, all that interference. The races you've saved and those you've killed, what makes you so different to me.'

'I knew where the line was, and I never crossed it.' The Doctor said defiantly. 'I have walked it, I might have even stretched it a time or two but I never crossed it. We don't have the right, we can lead by example yes, but never order.'

'Then that, along with our methods, is how we differ Doctor.'

'We differ a lot more ways than that.' The Doctor insisted when the door at the top of the stairs burst open and two small objects bounced down into the cavern.

For a moment the two Time Lords looked at them and at the same moment realised just what they were, an instant before they exploded in a brilliant flash of light and deafening sound.

* * *

Wilf didn't know what to do. His Donna, his little Donna, was ill and he didn't know what to do about it. Sylva was besides her self with worry. 'This is all his fault you know.'

'Oh not this again.' Wilf sighed

'It is, if he hadn't come into our lives Donna would be alright!' his daughter almost wailed. Wilf had helped to raise both her and Donna, but he still didn't understand either of them. Then again there were moments, like now, that he could. Sylvia was terrified by the thought of losing Donna and lashing out at the only person she could.

'Sylva, love, you know that's not fair. He's not here to defend himself and Donna chose to go with him.'

'She didn't know, couldn't.'

'That's the point.' Wilf took hold of her by the arms. 'Listen you've got to let go some time. You might think Donna made a mistake but your wrong, she got to see and do things you and I can't dream about. Remember what he told us, about people out there and the things she's done for them. Donna's a hero and just because she can't remember that doesn't mean she didn't do them.'

His daughter was on the verge of tears, but somehow held them back. Wilf was glad for that, if she started he wouldn't be able to stop. There was a uncomfortable cough and the pair of them jumped.

There was a small woman in a Doctors coat standing there with a chart. 'I'm sorry it interrupt. Sylvia Noble?'

'Yes, doctor. How's my daughter?'

The small woman winced. 'That's what I need to talk to you about. Can I see you in my office?' She lead them down one of the sterile halls, where one of the cleaning staff was busy moping something up.

A couple of turns later she opened a door and lead them into a small room, only just big enough for the old computer, a battered plastic desk and three cheap chairs. The doctor sat down and waved at them to do the same thing. 'Can I be honest with you, Mrs Noble. The truth is we have no idea whats wrong with your daughter.'

'How can you have no idea?' Sylvia barked, jumping to her feet. 'She's been here for almost two hours and now you tell me you you don't know anything.'

'Mrs Noble, you have to understand we've ran every medical test we can think of. Not only does the results not match her records, but most of them don't make any sense.'

Wilf put a restraining hand on his daughter's arm and gently pulled her back down. 'What do you mean?' he asked in as calm a voice he could manage.

He could see that the doctor was at her wits end and the last thing she needed was a distraught parent. 'We've ran blood tests, a few x-rays and a magnetic scan. The blood came back with impossible results, it wasn't even human. I guess it must have been corrupted some how. We've got another batch being tested right now. The x-rays came back blank, as if the machine was broken, but the CAT scan is what is causing the most trouble.' She showed them a chart, Wilf couldn't make much sense of it, but there was a lot of red spikes all over the place.

'I can't read this!' Sylvia wailed.

The doctor shrugged. 'Neither can we, either the imager is broken like the X-ray or…'

'Or what' Wilf asked, his voice cracking.

The doctor shot them both a look that spoke volumes. 'Or her mind is wired differently to yours and mine. That's not all, her pulse is strange, but still strong. Then there's her body temperature, it's dropped almost two degrees in the last hour alone.'

'I don't understand.' Sylvia asked, stunned. Neither did Wilf.

'It's a mystery to us too.' she admitted. 'We want to do some tests, see if it's not something she's contracted. If it is you might be infected too and with these malfunctions we don't know how bad it is.'

The door burst open and another woman came in. She had dark skin and long black hair. 'I'm afraid that's not possible.'

'Just who are you, what makes you think…'

The stranger pulled out a wallet. 'Dr Martha Jones, Unified Intelligence Task force. This is now a code nine situation, all medical records are to be given over and you are forbidden from discussing this. As far as you know Donna Noble is in perfect health.'

'You can't just come in here and order me around.'

'I think you find I can.' Miss Jones told the doctor. 'Mr Mott, Mrs Noble, I'm a friend of Donna's.'

'Really, how?' Sylvia asked, but Wilf already had an idea.

'We have a friend in common.' she said, reaching for the charts. 'We keep track of all his former companions, just to keep them safe. When Donna's name was entered into the Hospital computer we got a message and I was sent to find out what was going on.'

'Then it is all his fault!' Sylvia said, almost triumphantly. 'It's some thing that happened while she was out there, isn't it. He drags people across the universe and doesn't even think about what harm he does!'

Jones laughed lightly. 'He really doesn't get along well with mothers, does he. Of course he thinks about that, the TARDIS protects it's passengers. It improves our immune systems to the point where it's almost impossible to catch something.'

'And what if she has?' Sylvia pressed.

'Well no offence, but if she had it would already have killed everyone in this hospital twice over.'

'But you can't be sure about that!' Sylvia cried out.

'I understand that you're scared. I would be too, but blaming people won't help. You have to believe me when I say he would bend, break and fracture every law in time and space to help a friend.'

End Chapter Three


	5. Chapter Four

Doctor Who  
at The End of Time  
Chapter Four

Wilf waited as the young woman flicked back and forth through his Donna's medical chart. 'This doesn't make any sense.' she muttered under her breath. Wilf didn't know what to make of Martha Jones. She was young, and determined and had a set way to her that he recognised as the Doctor's doing.

On the other hand she had been completely stumped by what she was reading. Just then Donna's doctor came in, her face like a thunder cloud. 'I've just been told you're now in charge of my patient.' The smaller woman said, sounding as if she was about one step away from snapping. Then she smirked. 'Getting anywhere?'

For a moment Wilf bristled, she might have been put out but that was no reason to not want to help, this was his granddaughters life. Jones didn't say anything at first. Then she closed the chart. 'It's not a virus, there's no sign of her body fighting whatever's happening. We need to get her to a specialist facility, full DNA tests everything.'

'You're not taking my daughter anywhere!' Sylvia almost shouted and donna's eyes opened.

Wilf was the first by her side. She hadn't been awake since the collapse back home. 'Donna, are you alright?'

'I can see!' she whispered urgently. 'I can see, oh stars, I can see!' Donna wasn't talking to them. Suddenly she sat up bolt upright, a manic grin on her face. 'Martha! Benjamin Franklin!'

'Donna?' She asked as confused as Wilf was but Donna fell back again, eye's closed. He could still see them though, moving behind her eyelids.

After a handful of seconds she whispered again. 'They're coming.' Donna muttered before shuddering and passing out again.

Jones didn't waste a second. pulling out her phone she jabbed out a number. 'This is Dr Jones, require evacuation to the Priory. Confirmed code nine, three passengers plus myself and one is bedridden.' Wilf recognised that tone, she was an officer.

* * *

The Doctor awoke, head pounding and hearts beating out of rhythm, hissing as he prised himself up to his feet the Time Lord fell off the cot he'd been unceremoniously dumped on.

Of to one side there was a short barking laugh. 'Graceful as ever old boy?' It was the Master. Finding which way was up and which the ground the Doctor stood up. He was in a cell, metal bars over the windows and some more iron work between him and his arch-foe.

For a second he almost believed the stun grenade was the Master's doing, but it was too brutal, too primitive and most of all too human to be a product of his imagination. There was also the fact he was in the cell opposite. 'It's about time you woke up Doctor. I was waiting for our esteemed host to show himself. Now he will.' The Master nodded pointedly at the security cameras.

The Doctor was far more interested in where his coat and jacket were, along with his sonic screwdriver and psychic paper. Looking outside the cell he found them on a coat hanger at the far end. Ignoring the Master's tight grin he tried to get a better idea of where he was. The building wasn't as old as it pretended to be, built probably about ten years earlier They were buried in the cellar and he could see the concrete foundations.

There was also some sign that the bars had been put in at a hurry. Some of the welds were sloppy. If any of his old friends, like Jamie or the Brigadier were here they'd throw themselves with the usual brute force. It might even have worked and without his screwdriver it was probably the only way to brake out.

The Master just smirked, as if he knew what the Doctor was thinking. The pair of them had been playing their eternal chess match for hundreds of years Even before that they knew each other so well that they had learnt how to predict what one another was thinking.

Of course violence was the last recourse of the incompetent and as the Master pointed out, their host would make themselves known. An hour later and that was exactly what happened.

Their host was normal, as humans go; a couple of inches shorter than him, dark skin, short receding hair. He was in his early fifties and from the looks of him fairly well off. The suit was expensive, bespoke and very well made. 'Hello. You must be the Doctor and you sir. When we last met you went by the name Harold Saxon but I understand you're really known as the Master.'

'Mr Naismith, can I still call you Joshua?' The Master said pleasantly.

'Of course, Would you be so kind as to introduce me to your colleague?'

The Master smirked. 'Doctor I'd like you to meet Sir Joshua Naismith, one of England's more influential businessmen. Mr Naismith here owns about four different companies. He was very helpful in setting up the Archangel network and provided the private services used to build the Valiant.' He turned on Naismith. 'Joshua, this is my long term opponent and constant pain in my side The Doctor. If you wanted to talk to me Joshua you could have called.'

'Yes, I could Mr Saxon.' Naismith nodded. 'After seeing your meteoric rise through the government I did some investigating. When I saw you designs for the Valiant I knew there had to be more to you than just ambition.'

The Master sat back, 'Ahh you must have been one of the four percent.'

'Four percent?' Naismith asked, blinking.

'Four percent unaffected by Archangel.' The Doctor explained. 'The Master embedded a hypnotic signal into the network, that's how he got voted in.'

Naismith nodded. 'Thank you Doctor, I suspected as much but couldn't prove it. He smiled. 'Very clever. Although that is exactly what I wanted to know. You see I have need of your services. Both your services.'

'Oh really, why?' The Master asked The Doctor was just going to sit back and listen, villains were all the same. More interested in bragging than thinking.

'You see after you revealed your alien allies to the world Mr Saxon I began to research anything I could find. Ever since the collapse of Torchwood information and artefacts have been coming up for the highest bidder.'

The Doctor kept his face impassive. He knew that Jack had his own Torchwood in Cardiff, but it wasn't a surprise that a lot of their pilfered technology had slipped through the cracks. Hiding a terrible shudder he remembered the amount of firepower the clandestine group had hoarded for decades.

'And I take it we are to the prized additions to your collection.' the Master sighed. 'After more than nine hundred years you would think at least one master villain would attempt something original.' The Doctor cocked an eyebrow at his fellow Time Lord.

'Oh no.' Joshua Naismith smiled lightly. 'You're not prisoners, I'm not trying to take over the world like some moustachioed pantomime character. I'm trying to safe it. Save it from it's reliance on oil, on nuclear power, on solar, wind or any of the other inefficient ways they're talking about.'

'Power, you're talking about generating energy?' The Doctor blurted out.

'Exactly!' Naismith grinned. 'Energy, with enough of it there is nothing the human race can't do. Return to the moon, then further, into the universe itself. Can't you see, our reliance on the middle east oil has brought war, poverty and destruction. To the very birthplace of mankind itself. If we are ever to rise above that we need to use these technologies, these gifts to advance ourselves.'

'And how much will the rest of the world have to pay for this technology?' the Master jibed.

Naismith shook his head. 'It's not about money, its about humanity. We've stagnated, come to a stop. In the last forty years what have we done but wallow in past successes. We've even gone backward. Just look at Concord, one time it was a shining example of what could be done. Now it is a failure, all that promise wasted. Just imagine what we could do if this yoke wasn't around our necks!'

The Doctor let himself smile sightly. A man with vision. He was, in his own way, right. Using alien technology to advance mankind was a noble effort. Unfortunately it didn't work that way. The Doctor shook his head. 'Won't work, you can't just pick up a piece of alien technology and expect it to work for you. That's why we're here isn't it, you need someone to explain what it is you've got.'

Naismith nodded. 'I see you're reputation is well earned Doctor. I was hoping to track down Mr Saxon here, when his former wife disappeared I knew he had to have some sort of connection. Imagine my surprise when I found two of you.'

'As much as I hate to agree with him, the Doctor is right. You can't just walk into a patent office with a Quark-drive reactor and expect to solve a world wide energy crisis.'

'That's where you're both wrong.' He pulled out a mobile phone and waved it in front of them. 'For the life of me I can't understand how this works. I press the glass on the front and it knows just what to do. I have office upstairs with a Computer, I press buttons on a keyboard and things happen on the screen. Again I don't know how it works, only that it does. That's where you come in. I don't need to know how these things work, I only need you to make them work.'

The Doctor sighed, what was it with humans and blinkered vision. He didn't need to say anything, one shared glance with the Master was enough. Without a working knowledge of the underlining physics even the most simple generator could be a doomsday machine.

Naismith gave some sort of signal to the camera and the unthinkable happened. Two men came in, wearing laboratory aprons. Each carrying something that shouldn't, even couldn't exist.

They were eight feet tall staffs, topped off with four mirrors and a carving of the founder of Time Lord society. Rassilon himself. 'Reflector staffs!' the Doctor hissed. It shouldn't be possible.

* * *

Rassilon swept into the Medical hall. Dozens of Time Lords, injured and suffering, lined the walls. Even in spite of their wounds they stood as was their duty in the presence of the Lord-President. further, deeper into the hall, was reserved for those that could not be helped. For those that were there the was no cure. As repulsive as the thought of harming another Time Lord was Rassilon wondered if their deaths might have been a mercy.

Beyond them was cordoned off. Three Time Lords resided in that terrible place, they they would always reside. Their minds shattered, lost in time and space. Their Physical bodies were broken but not as much as their minds. Even regeneration offered no rest for those poor souls. What they had seen, what they still saw even now was beyond horror. Beyond sense.

While Rassilon pitied the others, these even he almost feared.

Lady Festouvaolnola stood up and brushed the creases from her plain gown. 'Lord-President.'

'Lady.' he nodded with courtesy. 'You summoned me?'

She wasn't afraid. After seeing the horrors these three Time Lords suffered Rassilon wondered if anything could phase her. 'I did. It's Lord Scholar. He's seen something.'

'When do they ever not see something?' he asked pointedly.

Lady Festouvaolnola seemed to shrug and led Rassilon to the bedside of Lord Scholar. The previous Lord-President had once marked this man as a trouble maker, it was hard to see now. There were large bags under his eyes and a hounded look in them. He was skeletally thin, his hair shot through with grey. 'Scholar, it's me Fest. Can you hear me?'

'On the fifth tole the stars ring true, on the sixth silence will fall…' he muttered eyes scanning this way and that. As if reading something.

'You told me of a horror, of what is coming?' she prodded.

The Scholar turned his eyes to her. 'Yes. Yes I was.' his sudden sanity terrifying. 'Lord President?'

Swallowing Rassilon nodded. 'You look different, have you regenerated?'

'Yes, yes he has.' Lady Festouvaolnola said soothingly. 'Can you tell him?'

Scholar nodded, his voice strained though chapped lips. 'This is the last day, Gallifrey will see no more.'

'This is what you've called me here for, these ramblings?' The Lord-President spun to leave, disgusted.

'But look!' The Scholar shouted, ignoring his outburst. 'Look to the lost children, they war among themselves and in their struggle they will open a door. The fool will hand over the last of us to them and he will use it!'

Rassilon suddenly stopped. 'A door...?'

'Once opened can go both ways.' The Scholar completed the ancient saying. 'For Gallifrey is doomed to end, but every end is a beginning.' The Lord Scholar fell back in his cot, all strength drained from him.

'Lady Festouvaolnola, attend him as best you can. He might have saved us all.' Rassilon said, a plan forming in his mind. If what this blessed lunatic had said was the truth there may yet be a chance.

'That is not necessary, Lord President.' She said sadly, closing the dead man's eyes for him.

Rassilon looked at her. 'Last Regeneration?' he asked carefully.

She shook her head, 'Only his third. He just didn't have the energy left.' Standing up Lady Festouvaolnola looked him in the eye, she truly was fearless. 'It's a mercy, don't force him to return.'

'I accept your judgement.' Rassilon tilted his head in respect. 'Thank you.' With that the Lord-President left, he had orders to give and preparations to make.

End Chapter Four


End file.
